Laying It On The Line
by singpraise147
Summary: When you can't deny the feelings any longer, when they threaten to spill out from every part of you, there is nothing left to do.  So lay it on the line.  Takes place in and around the time of The Maltese Falcon Job.
1. You're In My Head

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Leverage or anything else related to the show.

A/N: This is first chapter is Nate's perspective. I'll leave it up to you to decide when exactly during _The Maltese Falcon Job _these thoughts occur. Please review.

I am in over my head. How had this happened? Why and how had I let things get to this point? It was mind-boggling. Looking at the picture Sam had drawn what seemed like a lifetime ago, one word escapes from my mouth. "Sophie". I breath her name with a sadness that would have been heart-wrenching had anyone else been here to hear it. It feels as though it came from a place deep within me; it has been threatening to burst out for months. It is a mere whisper that has been repeating itself over and over in my soul since the moment she left.

My cell phone feels cold and heavy against my hand as I stare down at its buttons, millions of thoughts concerning her rushing through my brain. I go to my contacts and scroll down to her name. I can feel a smile begin to slowly spread across my lips as I remember when I had first met Sophie.

She had, of course, looked stunning; a picture of alluring beauty. I can see her clearly like a photograph or maybe a film in my mind. I see that short blue dress she wore. It's funny, but I never could decide exactly what shade of blue it was, but I loved the way the bodice clung tightly to her chest and how the skirt flared and swayed when she walked. When she turned it fanned out around her and rose up allowing me a better look at her tanned thighs. Her hair looked so soft, softer than it had any right to look, and for a moment I had the strangest desire to reach out and touch it with my hands. She had the front of her dark locks pulled back out of her face and soft tresses floated elegantly down to her shoulders and back in gentle waves. I had just barely caught the mischievous glint in her eye, the one I would come to know well, before she turned and ran off leaving me with a missing painting and a lot of paperwork.

Back then she had simply been an enchanting grifter who seemed to always slip through my fingers and those of the law. There was no denying the fact that from the moment I laid eyes on her, I found her attractive, but it wasn't until later that our bizarre relationship (if it could actually be categorized as one) began to develop into something more than that. And it took even longer for me to admit, to fully realize that whatever it was that existed (and still does exist) between Sophie and I was much more than attraction. Somewhere in the middle of chasing her, catching her, and losing her again, I discovered that she had taken up permanent residence in my head and much to my chagrin, my heart as well. The realization of that latter fact had hit me like a ton of bricks. In fact so did the first one.

The place she occupied was small to be sure; at least a first. I often tried to deny the feelings I had for her, knowing full well a relationship was impossible. It happened slowly, her invasion into my mind. It happened without my complete awareness, this growing and complicated relationship that we developed over the years. I can't even be sure where I was or what I was doing when it happened, when the realization of my true feelings for her first hit me, but I remember the feeling very clearly. It was like being woken up by a bucket of ice cold water. I became cognizant of the fact that despite whatever it was I was supposed to be doing, I was thinking about Sophie. After that day, the day I realized she was more than just an attractive thief to me, I found myself consciously thinking of her more often. I would wonder what brilliant heist she was cleverly planning, where she was planning to strike next, and if by chance she was thinking about me. I found myself hoping that her next caper would bring her into contact with me. Yet, at the same time, I was afraid of what might happen if it did.

These thoughts of Sophie would often pop up out of the blue, floating in and out of my mind like a whispering breeze. She might scurry into my thoughts when I was sharing a drink with that weasel Sterling; listening to him brag in that obnoxious way of his about his latest and greatest successes. Sterling never talked about his failures and I was never sure if it was because he never failed or because he covered the failures up. One day she made her may into my brain when I happened in a meeting with Blackpoole. The pompous bore was briefing me on some new client he had signed and I suddenly realized, much to my annoyance, that I had only half been listening due to the fact that I was thinking about the lunch Sophie and I had shared a month ago. We both happened to be in Budapest and for once, it wasn't for the same reason. I didn't even know she was in the same country as I was, until I found her note in my hotel room. It was the fifth note she had written to me, but this one was different. It was still flirtatious and rather annoying, but there was something about it that felt more personal.

Back in the meeting with Blackpoole, I shook my head in an attempt to throw thoughts of her from it. I tried to concentrate on his words. Only as I watched him lean against his desk, I found myself imagining the way Sophie would have looked dressed in a business skirt and jacket sitting on the desk in front of me. It was frustrating, I wasn't supposed to and should not be thinking of her. Yet in some ways I didn't want these thoughts to stop. And they didn't.

I would also think about Sophie when I was on a case in which she wasn't even involved. I would wonder if she would have done it differently, would have done it better. Even worse than thinking about Sophie at work, was the times she would show up in my mind while I was with Maggie. These moments happened rarely, but that was still more often than I would have liked. When Maggie and I were talking about some piece of art she was examining or that I was trying to recover, Sophie would come across my mind. I would wondered what her opinion on the work of art might be. Once, when we took Sam to the park to play and the sunlight reflected off of Maggie's blonde hair, I would remember how the sunlight looked in Paris bouncing off Sophie's dark tresses. There were even times, only once or twice, when Maggie and I were out on a "date night". It may have been when we were sitting in a darkened movie theater, eating and dancing at some sophisticated restaurant, or just eating pizza and drinking beer at one of our favorite dives; Sophie Devereaux would somehow managed infiltrate her way into my mind.

I always felt guilty about those thoughts; I hate myself for them just as much now as I did then. I can remember right after Maggie and I split, when it was okay for me to think about Sophie, I still felt that it was wrong. Maybe it was because she was a thief and I was the "honest man". Once we started to work together, I started to think about Sophie even more often than before. It was only natural, we spend a lot of time together working on jobs. If I am honest with myself though, I think about Sophie a lot more than I do any of the others. It took some time for me to come to terms with the idea that it was acceptable and even natural that I think about her now. It is giving those thoughts and feelings a name that I really struggle with.

After Sam died, I felt as if I part of me had died along with him, as though there was a hole in my heart. For a long time after that, I had felt lost, like the Nathan Ford I had always been had faded, become blurry and almost undistinguishable as a man. I remember how Sophie had once told me that I was not the same man she knew before. She had been right. Nate Ford, insurance investigator, had been swallowed up by this new identity, this new man. It was that last part that was particularly important. I have a clearly defined identity again, at least I do when she is here to help keep me in line and help me to not stray too far from the path, to help me recognize which way was up. Sophie, and the rest of the team too, have helped to fill in the parts of me that had been eroded by the pain. They can never take the place of Sam, no one ever possibly could. When he was born, maybe even before that when Maggie told me she was pregnant, Sam became my purpose in life. When he died, so did my reason for everything. These crusades, as she had once referred to them, give me purpose again. But that purpose isn't as clear without her.

She was always reminding me of who I could be. She seems to think that I could be better than what I actually am. Maybe she is right. She knows me...better than anyone else. I can't be that man without Sophie though.

I know what she wants from me. I know why she hasn't come back yet. The answer is perfectly simple and yet very complicated, something she very well knows. She is waiting for a reason. Back in L.A. she told we that she would not ever abandon me as long as I gave her a reason to stay. All she wants is a reason to return. A reason that comes from me.

There it was, a simple fact; I need her. I know now that I can admit it to myself and that is half the battle. All that is left to do is to tell her. I had meant what I said about two years ago. I am a better man for knowing her. And I cannot ever return to a life without her in it; it is impossible. No, Sophie Devereaux has somehow wriggled her way so deeply into my life, into my heart that I am not sure I can function properly without her. I would call her my soul mate, that is if I was naive enough to believe in such things. I am not sure I can actually give a name to the unusual relationship that exists between Sophie and I. Because no matter what, she will always be in my thoughts and in my heart. I have to hope that telling her that much will be enough.


	2. You Were Right I Hate That

Disclaimer: I (still) do not own the Leverage characters or anything else having to do with the show.

A/N: This is chapter delves into the mind of Sophie. I hope you like it. Please review.

I follow the others onto the helicopter barely aware of what I am doing as tears fall hot and silent down my face. I look out the window, against my better judgement, hoping to catch just a glance of Nathan Ford one more time before I find myself once again being pulled away from him. There is a small part of me, the part that isn't furious with the jerk, before he is thrown unceremoniously into the back of a police car.

The scene that meets my eyes makes the breath catch in my throat. An ambulance is careening towards the docks and without even really thinking about it, I know why. I turn my head sharply towards Eliot seeing the answer on his face before I even ask the question. Yet I ask anyway and needing to hear it said allowed. "Nate was shot, wasn't he?"

Eliot looks away from me and clears his throat, but he tells me the truth just as I knew he would. "In the left side of the abdomen. It should be okay though. They'll take care of the wound. They have to". The last part sounds a bit more like a wish than actual fact. I close my eyes trying not to imagine what is going to happen to him next and take a single deep breath in. As I slowly let the breath out, I wipe away the tears from my face with the back of my hand. Minutes pass as I stare blankly at some obscure spot in front of me before I realize the rest of the team is whispering and throwing worried glances my way. I look at them, unable to hide the pain and confusion in my eyes. I wish that they would just tell me what is that they want. Their looks are a mixture of accusation, pity, and curiosity. Finally, I am able to gather up enough courage though to stick my chin out, prepared for what was to come next.

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't to be wrapped in a tight hug from Parker. It startled me at first and I had to consciously stop myself from jumping at the shock. Before long though, I find myself sinking in to the hug though and stroking the blonde head that lays against my shoulder lovingly. "I'm so glad you came back". I smile at Parker whispering softly "I never really left".

Back in my own hotel room, sitting curled up on one end of the couch with my hands wrapped around a cup of tea, I am finally able to allow my mind to wander. I think about the words I had spoken to Parker. There was a truth in them, yet I know that my not being here in Boston the past few months had been hard on all of the team. It had also been hard on me. Nate was right when he said I couldn't find myself traveling halfway around the world. It just happened to be where I was when I realized it.

Only hours earlier, I had been sitting in a café in Antwerp. It happened to be the exact location in which I first kissed Nathan Ford. It was a actually a very amusing story and I can't help but to smile thinking about it. So there I sat in the café, absentmindedly sipping my drink as the scene all those years ago played in my head.

I really should have been on my way out of the country or at least out of the area and that was in fact my plan. But then I saw Nate sitting at that café.

I hadn't formed any plan at all when my feet seemed to walk me over to his table of their own accord. He was completely engrossed in the files that he was pouring over and didn't even notice me, until I spoke his name. "Nathan Ford, what a pleasant surprise?" I asked him as my hands rested on the back of the chair across from him.

He didn't even look up, he just spoke my name, "Sophie Devereaux. I wish I could say the same" . The way it rolled off his tongue made me smile. I could hear the annoyance (which was very clear) and the hint of intrigue (which wasn't) in his voice. He was reading over the security measures the IYS client, and the man I had just stolen several artifacts from, had taken to protect his property. He continued to pour over the documents as he reached for his coffee. However, his hand was unable to find the cup. That is when he finally looked up at me and saw that his coffee was wrapped in my hands. I sipped the drink, looking at him mischievously over the rim.

I tossed my hair, a calculated movement, and set his cup of coffee back down on the table. Once I was able to grasp his attention, I didn't want to lose it. "So Nathan, what brings you to Belgium today?" I asked leaning back in my chair uncrossing my legs and crossing them again allowing my foot to brush up against his leg just the slightest bit.

His face tensed just a little before he smiled and answered, "Business of course". He narrowed his eyes at me. "I was in the area on a case, when a client phoned to say that he was worried special pieces in his collection".

His hand was resting on top of the now closed case file. I placed my hand on top of his causing him to look at me sharply and quickly draw his hand away. This allowed me the opportunity I needed to grab the folder and take a peek at what he was working on.

"A piece by Odilon Redon, an ebony mantle clock from the Baroque period, and a Syrian vase". He tried to get the file from me but I was too quick for him. "Very interesting pieces Nate".

His beautiful blue eyes stared into my own. "You don't know anything about their disappearance, do you Sophie?" he asked knowing that I would never tell him the truth.

"Of course not Nate. I can't believe you would dare insinuate that I could have anything to do with such a thing" I cried with mock indignation.

He gave a small, barely audible snort. "Yes," the amusement in his beautiful eyes was hard to miss even if the tone of his voice was dry, "how could I even begin to think that you were someway involved or know anything about an art theft?"

I pouted, sticking out my lip. "Nate, I'm hurt" I whined. Despite the front he put on, I knew he liked this teasing banter.

I returned the file and sat back watching him. I wasn't worried that he would discover my involvement with the theft. I had been very careful and was certain there was almost no way to legally trace it back to me at least not for some time. "I hope you take the time to actually enjoy the city Nathan. It would be a pity if you didn't". I told him deciding it was probably a good idea to change the subject.

He looked at me, his head tilted a moment before responding. "What is so great about this city Sophie?"

I smiled coyly. Stood up and walked around the table till I was standing beside his chair. Then I leaned down and whispered in his ear. "Maybe some day we can come here together and I will be able to show you". I had meant to leave then, but something about Nate just drew me to him. My face was only inches from his and I just made the decision to do it. I placed my hand on his cheek and pressed my lips to his. I was completely shocked by what happened next. I felt myself deepening the kiss, letting myself get lost in the moment, in the feel of his lips on mine. I pulled away a little stunned. Then, I made myself walk away.

That was the first time, one of many, I made myself walk away from Nathan Ford, despite a very strong desire to stay. It was part of the game we played. We would pull each other in, dance dangerously close to the line without ever stepping over, and then we would push each other away. One of us always had to walk away. I had thought we were through playing that game.

I have always loved Nathan Ford. That kiss was just the catalyst that made me realize how I felt about him. I never stopped being in love with him; I just needed to be sure that he loved me. The real me. I wanted to hear him say the words. So I had walked away once more.

I had wanted to find myself. What I found was that while I enjoyed traveling Europe and discovering truths I had been successfully hiding for years, I wasn't truly happy. I didn't feel like myself. I needed the team, needed the crusades. I needed Nate. Because somehow, who I am had become inexplicably linked to him.

It was while I was sitting in that café that I realized it. I was thinking about the kiss and my mind was drawn to the memories of other moments shared with that frustrating man. Every glance, those hidden and those not, every time his hand brushed my arm or my hair, they all came back to me. It occurred to me that in each look and each touch, even in the times he was angry with me, there was love there. He always saw through me (he proved that when we were trying to steal the Second David) and he still loved me. I had to ask myself the question, shouldn't I accept the fact that he can't say it yet, shouldn't knowing the he loves me be enough?

That realization is the reason I was already on my to London where I was going to catch a connecting flight to Boston when Tara called. It is also the reason I was on a helicopter already working on a rescue plan when Nate called.

Now he was going to prison and I am left to pick up the pieces. I am so angry with him it is difficult to even breath. Even anger doesn't change the fact that I love him and he needs me. So I will be here waiting until one day when we can finally cross that line.


End file.
